travel back in time and undo her relationship with Tom. She’d like to return to when she’d been an innocent girl, absorbing everything her father said, cherishing time with him as a break from the tensions in the household. He’d been killed in a car wreck only a month or so later, and afterwards, Aimee often replayed her memory of their last hike together.
Sometimes the memory made her cry, but today, she felt like she had no tears left. She was completely empty, and she just sat waiting, hoping that Charlene would show up and rescue her from her own misery. An elderly couple and a group of college students passed her, but no one disturbed her until she finally saw Charlene.
Her friend was wearing one of the power suits she typically wore to work, but she had changed out of her usual pumps into sturdy athletic shoes, and she marched along the path with brisk steps. When she saw Aimee, she changed direction and sat beside her on the bench.
“What’s wrong, Aimee?”
“Everything.” Aimee knew the statement was too dramatic, but she couldn’t help it. “My job. Tom. My whole life. I used to come here with my dad, back when everything seemed possible. I loved the view and the river, and I thought I’d bring my daughter here someday. Now I don’t know if I’ll ever have one.”
The words came pouring out. Charlene scooted closer and draped one arm over Aimee’s shoulder. The gesture was a rare demonstration of affection, and it started the tears Aimee hadn’t been able to cry.
“I feel like such an idiot. Everyone knew my relationship with Tom wasn’t working. I knew it wasn’t working. But I couldn’t let go of it. I just kept giving more and more to try to keep it going. I gave up the catering business. I changed the way I dressed. We went to restaurants Tom liked, with people he wanted to impress. Whenever I thought about breaking up with him, he’d promise me that he was almost ready to get married. Almost, but never quite there. I believed Tom was the man God had chosen for me, and I just needed to wait for things to work out. Now I can’t believe I was such a pushover.”
Charlene handed her a tissue, and she wiped her eyes.
“And now, if I ever want a husband and family of my own, I have to date again, and I’m hopeless at it. Frank doesn’t want to see me again,” she hiccupped.
“I’m so sorry.” Charlene hugged her, and they sat in silence until Aimee’s tears stopped. “Tell me what happened.”
Aimee described her meeting with Edwina, and Charlene murmured sympathetically. “I don’t understand it,” Aimee finished. “I thought I’d shown him I was a date he could be proud of. I don’t understand why he asked for another match.”
“It’s just one guy. He’s the first man you’ve dated since Tom. You’ll meet someone else.”
“Not as nice as Frank. And if I can’t get him to like me, how can I think someone else would?”
Charlene pulled away and looked Aimee in the eyes. “I’m not as good at this girl-to-girl talk as Tish is, so just tell me: do you want best friend sympathy or my honest opinion about what went wrong?”
Aimee blinked tear-wet eyes at her. For a moment, she was tempted to say sympathy. She wasn’t sure she could handle another round of criticism, however well-intentioned. But she’d spent long enough hiding from not-so-pleasant realities. Surely she could handle a dose of the truth?
“Your honest opinion,” she said. “But gently, please. I’m feeling pretty fragile at the moment.”
“Okay. You said that Frank thought you might be a match after the first date, so the problem occurred with the second one. When Frank came here, you felt like you needed to impress him. I think you staged the date and acted the way you thought you needed to. And it would’ve worked, if Frank had been more like Tom. But he isn’t. I don’t think our hunky farm boy cares if you’ve been to Europe or can make a perfect cappuccino or know the
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